NEPAL

NAGARKOT, NEPAL

As I left Kathmandu this am the excitement of Daisan was in the air. Women in colorful red dresses lined the streets, everyone carrying, selling, leading, or searching for chickens, goats, and ducks to be used in the Sacrafice. Nepal is approximately 60 percent Hindu and 40 % Buddhist. Buddhist’s also celebrate Daisan but they do not sacrifice animals. The Hindu’s believe that you have to offer the sacrifice to keep the many gods happy. There are many gods in the Hindu religion and a few animals are sacred – such as the cow, monkey, and dog. The goat is stupid so by offering it as a sacrifice you ward off the god that makes you do stupid things. The chicken is dirty and the duck is greed and temptation. The buffalo signifies anger and many temples are adorned with horns from the not so lucky angry buffalo.

Nagarkot, Nepal
I arrived this morning to a very small and remote mountain town – located about 1.5 hours from the hustle and bustle of Kathmandu. I also witnessed my first animal sacrifice – the killing of a goat. It was a gruesome sight but a necessary one as this is the very first day of Daisan – the most important festival of the year for Nepal and for Hindu's the world over. After arriving to the very top of a mountain that contained switch back after switchback I dropped my bags and set out on foot. Nagarkot is not widely known – white people count today – 7. I trekked all morning – covering a good 10 km before noon. Then I noticed a beautiful pagoda temple at the top of a very steep hip. I saw the steps and the mountain air and sunshine were calling my name so up a I went. I was greeted at the top by a warm and welcoming – NAMASTE! The Nepalese / Hindu greeting for hello. A very nice Hindu family was applying the ceremoniously red paste (TIKA) to everyone’s forehead – this is called ‘Pucha’. Everyone must have a red dot to show their faithfulness, devotion, and receive the good luck of the gods. The father of the family had in his hand a large knife. He looks at me and smiles – ‘you want to watch sacrifice?’ The family turns to me in anticipation.. their big brown eyes wide and their lips parting – showing beautiful and curious smiles…ok… what is the white boy going to say? They wait…

I oblige – and the ritual begins. Washing of the hands, ringing a bell, saying a prayer, and then slitting the throat of the wrangling goat. The blood gushes from its severed artery, covering the temple floor in a pool of warm red life rich blood. The river of life begins it’s journey towards an eventual demise, over the concrete, down the steps, and into the dirt below. The goat tries to make a sound… to get away… he cannot. You can see the fear in his eyes – he knows his fate. The goat wretches in pain and fright, hours seem to pass… and the lifeless body finally stops moving. One last twitch and it is over. I watch the family, they watch me, we all watch the goat. The father seems satisfied and although the expression is one of mercy, gratitude, and solemn – it is evident that this life. In order for one to live – another must die. The gods have sacrificed for the Hindu’s – now it is payback time. It is nature, natural selection, the work of the gods. This life is also dinner as the father begins skinning the goat and prepares the body for butchering.
I will never forget the sights, sounds, or smells of the hour that I spent with this family at the top of this mountainside temple. I witnessed death. I thought life. I learned and experienced.

I have never seen an animal die like this. And I am not sure what to think. I love all and accept all – free of bias and of opinion. There is an expression on Wall St – “it is what it is”. Nothing seems more fitting as I scribe these words….

The Hindu belief about death and cremation is an interesting one. Yesterday, while in Kathmandu; I witnessed my first cremation. I have heard that India has funeral pyres along the river banks – but was told it was 30 years ago. Apparently Nepal does as well and they are active 24 hours a day – 7 days per week. Along a beautiful river bank – lined with temples, holy men, and lush green mountain sides the cremation fires burn fast, furious, and often. Hindus are required to cremate the body of loved ones within 24 hours. Cremation is the ultimate sacrifice and the way in which reincarnation begins. It is holy, it is symbolic, and a 3-4 hour event. As I walk though the gates, one of the most holy temples in Nepal rises before me. Built in the 5th century – the gold pagoda gleams underneath a gray sky threatening rain.

I turn the corner, walk through a gate and see a holy man dressed in an elaborate red outfit. His pitch fork in hand – he is tending a small fire surround by statues. His look is one of respect and seriousness. Below him along the river banks are several raised platforms – tended by priests wearing white dress. White is the color of mourning. Across the river banks, myriad concrete steps fall into the brown water. Spectators line the banks… I peer over the railing and below me I witness a raging fire and 2 young men watching the fire burn. One has a completely shaved head – he is crouched down - silently weeping – his face in his hands, and his naked body exposed to the elements. One priest pokes at the fire with a long bamboo reed – another priest is in the process of shaving the older boys head. Hindus must watch the cremation of their mother or father. They must mourn for one year and wear white for one year. It is also tradition to shave the head of the sons and for the sons to lock themselves away from any contact for one week following the death. As the fire burns you can make out the body covered with straw. The torso, the legs, and the arms folded over the midsection. I watch in silence – and in honor.

And then I see more priests - carrying a new body. A young man. 2 males follow. The place the body on the funeral pyre. Put water into the mounth - one final drink. The bless the body and they pray. The body is then ceremoniously covered and sticks and straw are placed on top. With one flick of the match a new life cycle begins.

Nepal has been a plethora of experience and emotion. People have nothing yet they have everything. Their smiles illuminate the beautiful Himalayan Landscape and their experiences reflect the harsh reality of a country in which lies a striking dichotomy between man and nature. The Himalaya’s are home to some of the most striking and serene scenery on earth. They are powerful, beautiful and they provide the agriculture that supports the work of more than 50 % of the Nepalese population. They are also covered in clouds and their beauty often remains a mystery. Nepal thrives on tourism and many of its inhabitants survive on less than 150 rupees a day – this is the average wage of Nepalese friend – that is if he or she is in the lucky 50 % who actually have a job. 150 rupees is about $1.50. The cost of my expensive western hotel with a private bathroom and the most amazing view in the world is an outrageous $25 per night. Gas is about $4 a gallon here.

Many of the mountain towns have nothing… very few have phones – absolutely no internet or television – and the power and water is cut from 6-10 pm nightly. I am writing this on my on my final charge from my computer batter – my room alight from a small wax candle. Running water or an indoor toilet is a luxury that many cannot afford. You see people defecate, bathe, and drink from the same river only meters apart. Sure.. there is usually a town well – where many of the women go for water and carry it back home in jugs but even this water is not always clean My hotel had no hot water. When I went to inquire why my room has no power and water – I walked into the reception and noticed my host – sitting there in the dark – his face alight by the same was candle as mine. I smiled, he smiled – he knew and I knew. No words were necessary. I felt embarrassed that I would ask – I should know better. But of course I had never been to Nepal – so I didn’t. And many people across the world never will.
How can a country with so much to offer have so little? The government. It is corrupt. If you kill someone you buy your way out of it. I read an article in the paper today that a pocher was caught with 20 – yes 20 – horns from the endangered Rhinoceros. He paid 100,000 rupee fine - $1400 and he was free. The reason that the article was in the paper – is because he was arrested again – for poaching!!! Money is power – and when you have no money you are left with only yourself. The Hindu belief is you come to this world naked and you leave this world naked. You cannot take anything with you so in reality you life your life for only you – your memories – your experiences – and the faith in your god. How pure is this!!!
Can you say that you live your life the way that you REALLY want to live it? Without regret? Without circumstance? Without the wants and needs that are truly expendable? Nepalese people do not dream of success or bigger houses or nicer cars. They dream about humanity, survival, family, religion and the simple pleasures such as friendship, mattering, and a small cup of Masala tea. About the only thing that I truly have faith in are my best friends and that I will absolutely have to pay taxes. I would love to believe that the world or the stock market will take care of itself… we all know that is not the case.
I think it is important, for a moment; to talk about awareness. Awareness is the first skill they teach you in both business and psychology. It is a skill that everyone has but one that far to many of us fail to hone in on. Lack of awareness and apathy exacerbate the world’s problems and solutions. No need to go on a diatribe here about what lack of awareness has done to our economy, our energy prices, our carbon footprint, the greenhouse effect… - Need I say more. I can continue on for days. Awareness is overcoming apathy – it is having a voice – it is sharing what you know – and having discussions about what you do not know. It is taking stand and ‘going for it’. If you look at many successful people in the world – business leaders, conservationists, and thriving organizations – each of their causes begin and end with awareness and them having the balls to take a chance, make a stand, and never give up.

I explored Nagakot most of the day – walking every trail. I made friends with 2 shop keepers who were just awesome people. I enjoyed by coconut candy bar and washed it down with a concoction of orange and pineapple juice. We took pictures together, discussed Nepal culture and like each afternoon I have been in Nepal the rain clouds started to roll in as the sky went from a perfect blue, to a threatening gray, to finally an angry black. I had better head home. As I exited the shop to head back to Hotel Besso I came upon one of the only white people I had seen all day. I greeted her – Hello, Namaste – she greeted me in a very European Hello and a perfect and sing songy ‘Namaste’. What’s this… English??? Nepalese???
I met Anna late in the afternoon just before the clouds were ready to break. What a remarkable person. She is 32 years old, beautiful, married (she has been known her husband 11 years) and was in much the same place as I. She had a calling… She had a passion to travel the world and make a difference. She is a nurse in Switzerland and decided to come to Nepal and volunteer her time for 6 months. When she arrived her entire medical program turned out not to be what she thought it would be so she was stuck. She now lives with the President of the Tuberculosis society of Nepal. Nepal has a huge problem with TB and many die from the disease. She too is traveling alone and after swapping stories about relationships, life, loneliness, the rain forced our friendship to an abrupt end. It is weird – but travelers always find a way to connect. We decided to meet for dinner – (much better than dining alone and crying in your beer) and feasted on Chicken and Fish Tikka. By Ten O’clock the Japanese tourists had finished their meals and retired to their rooms and the waiters were waiting on us. We said our goodbye’s, exchanged emails and promised to keep in touch.
I woke the next morning at 5 am – to a beautiful rainy morning with sweeping views of the Himalayas. Hotel Besso sits at the end of a dirt road and falls into a beautiful serene canyon hundreds of meters below. As I hiked to the top of the mountain in the morning fog and light rain – I could see the first rays of light sneaking over the towering Himalayan peaks. And suddenly the sky was alight with musty blue, then orange, then violet. The peaks were covered in clouds and just and I thought – all this for nothing – I realized it was about the experience. It is about patience and wanting – not receiving. Nature decides if and when it will share. The mountains – where I thought no mountain could ever exists – thrust through the top of the clouds just after 8 am. The Himalayas have numerous mountains greater than 8,000 m or 24,000 feet high. Shrouded in a beautiful mix of ice and show – they reach towards the heavens.
By 9 am – my driver had arrived for my flight to Chitwan – the nature and ecological part about 250 km south of Kathmandu. On the way down from Nagakot – Daisan was in full swing. Goats and chicken – their heads severed from their bodies – lie in front of many houses, the family doing the tedious work of skinning the hide or butchering the animal for a feast that evening. Through switchback after switchback we descended back into Kathmandu towards the airport.
Ironically – the domestic terminal is quite different than the international terminal! I walked into the terminal and it was chaos… hundreds of people every people - two tv monitors and baggage strewn about. My ticket said YETI airlines at 12 pm. It was 10:30 and my flight was not on the monitor. I asked about my flight and was told 2 pm. No problem – I will grab a beer – wait – hang out. I passed through security which consisted of a guy behind a curtain. This guy takes me behind the curtain – looks at me – and waves me though. No pat down – no looking through my bag – definitely no metal detector . And unfortunately – no beer. No explanation of why my flight was delayed – it never showed up on the monitor until 3:00 pm. Every so often you have an airline employee who comes to the end of the terminal and yells something in Nepali and then hoards of people scurry to the only door and head out to the runway. At 3:15 I did the same. My airplane finally showed up about 3:30 – it was old, rusty, falling apart – but we boarded – and after receiving cotton balls to put in my ears and a yummy piece of candy – one propeller – then the other came to a life and off we went – up, up and away to the jungle.
We arrived about 45 minutes later – I made friends with a Nepal guy on the plane – he owns a guest house in Kathmandu – I am going to stay with him when I get back from my jungle excursion.
The jungle is primitive. Inside of mopeds everywhere – it is mostly bikes and foot traffic. The roads are very very bad. I would estimate that more than 70 % of the roads in Nepal are in need of desperate repair – and many places there is simply packed down dirt and rocks – that make for a jarring bumpy ride – but that only enhances your experience. Livestock roam the street with sacred cows almost everywhere. Chickens scurry about and ducks and goats stand in the road – daring you to hit them. Women wash cloths by hand and tend the fire – men watch and chop wood. Kids play cards. In Kathmandu – many kids would fly kites (about 5 rupees to buy). They get you pretty good on the string though – about 150-200 rupees. In Chitwa – no kites. Not much of anything except nature.
There are more than 500 species of birds here. They sang to me all night! I awoke at 6 am for breakfast and by 7 am I was in a canoe floating down a lazy river – awash with mud from the recent monsoons. As we step into a canoe – I glance over and crocodile and I exchange glances. I look down at my hollowed out tree trunk and decide it is the best alternative. Although a bit wobbly we make it down the river. Passing 2 more crocodiles and some beautiful birds. Just as we finish we spot a beautiful Rhino – having a morning drink along the river bank. I get my camera out just in time to get a few shots before he scurries away. After we dock the canoe – our guides take us off into the bush - we wade through the grass – more than most at least 2 m in height. We think about following our rhino but as we dart off into the unforeseen and unknown native grasses – we hear a huge commotion. Grunts, squeals, and clouds the sound of two Rhino’s fighting less than 50 meters away. We decide that a safer option may be a forest walk. I dunno – plants and trees – maybe some monkeys and flowers…. Yeah – definitely safer than a few tons of aggression with a deadly horn.
The forest walk ends with the arrival of some very large Indian elephants walking our way. The elephants lower their mighty backs, down onto their knees. They kneel gracefully, offering an open invitation to further my afternoon journey through Chitwan National Park. With an all aboard smile – the elephants lifts me to great heights – leaning over the basket affixed to this strong and graceful animals back – the forest canopy opens like a parachute – reveling the sanctuary that only the Indian jungle can provide. I think back to those animal meditation cd’s… they were definitely made here. As we pass through the forest – the sounds of birds and monkeys penetrate the silence and mingle with the sounds of mud squishing under the feet of my graceful elephant. The forest opens up to yet another small river – no problem – the elephant slides down the bank – and into the ride with ease. More than two meters in the water – the elephant drinks and plays for a bit and almost steps on a waiting crocodile – the animals don’t even notice each other – and as we exit the river the crocodile continues to scower the horizon in search of pretty while bathing in the subtle rays of the setting Nepal sun.
That night I return to my very tiny cottage – a mere 5 meter square hut. With no electricity after 6 pm – I read by candle light and turn to one of my new past times. Chess. I know.. nerdy right? It is a great mind game – and the strategy to beat the computer is tougher than you think. Grande Master Dell usually gets the better of me – but according to the very efficient record keeping – I win 36 % of the time.
I wake up the next morning and set out on a nature walk to kill some time before my flight. As I walk down the dirt road in the middle of a jungle I stop to watch some little ones playing. By now… the whole family is outside watching we – bathing me in their friendly smile. The eldest son and I begin the normal Nepal conversation. Where are you from? How long in Nepal? I always have to tell people I am from California because that seems to be a good central geography point. Then the next question – I haven’t heard this one yet.. – ‘You want to try some Nepali wine?’ So, we post up on the porch – open a bottle of San Miguel Beer – that is somehow filled with local wine made on site by my wonderful Nepali host. The verdict - Not great… not horrible. It was so so. They share their lives with me and next thing I know it is 1:30 and my flight leaves at 2:15. Shit!!! Another missed flight. I race back to the lodge – my driver is there patiently waiting – I apologize for being 30 minutes late and we take off down the dirt road. But wait.. we are going away from the airport. Maybe this is the quick way? Nope. Jeep stops. My driver gets out – 6 people cram into the back of our Jeep and my driver tosses the keys to an old guy who then gives my driver a wad of Nepal Rupees. My driver waives goodbye and walks into the jungle. WTF!!!! What just happened? Anyway – I point to my wrist and tell the guy that we have to get to the airport. Of course… - ‘No problem he responds!” We go back into the jungle – through unknown neighborhoods, down dirt roads, through a farm – wait…wait… 4 people just got out. Nope… now 3 just got back on. Finally we come to a paved road. I recognize it… we are now on the way to the airport. Weaving in and out of traffic we carouse the interstate. We stop – 3 people get out – 2 get on. We stop again…. Same story. I have 15 minutes left until my flight leaves. Boom – we arrive at the airport. I calmly walk in hand my ticket and $2 to the ticket agent for my departure tax. He takes my bag – gives me a ticket. I go through the magic curtain – aka security. Army officer looks at me and stamps my ticket. No pat down – nada. Plane shows up 5 minutes later and off I go – returning to Kathmandu.